


not idiots at all

by icoulddothisallday



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Meet-Cute, Modern Bucky Barnes, Sort of? - Freeform, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Twitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-20 17:50:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21285719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icoulddothisallday/pseuds/icoulddothisallday
Summary: Somehow, despite the seventy years in the ice and his overwhelming fame and popularity, Steve’s words have never been recorded anywhere. He suspects that he has Peggy to thank for that. The words have always been a source of embarrassment for Steve, for one reason or another. When he was a child, his words were just another thing that set him apart from others. Other kids had common words - mostly names, as that was what you were supposed to say to a stranger. Some kids got dealt generic words likeexcuse meandgood morning. Steve’s words didn’t make much sense, the ones that did were...not intended for polite conversation.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 39
Kudos: 1286





	not idiots at all

**Author's Note:**

> AKA the "idiot dick" fic

Somehow, despite the seventy years in the ice and his overwhelming fame and popularity, Steve’s words have never been recorded anywhere. He suspects that he has Peggy to thank for that. The words have always been a source of embarrassment for Steve, for one reason or another. When he was a child, his words were just another thing that set him apart from others. Other kids had common words - mostly names, as that was what you were supposed to say to a stranger. Some kids got dealt generic words like  _ excuse me  _ and  _ good morning.  _ Steve’s words didn’t make much sense, the ones that did were...not intended for polite conversation. 

So he’s grateful when he wakes up and finds that he still has this one secret. He can only imagine the jokes that Tony would make. All of his new teammates would give him a hard time, he’s pretty sure. 

Some of the words make more sense now, too, and it makes the transition easier, knowing that he was always supposed to be in this time and place. He misses his time and the people he left behind, but knowing that his (likely foul mouthed, social media obsessed) soulmate is out there helps ease the transition. 

Steve doesn’t start with twitter, when he finally tackles social media (he’s not ready yet). Thor’s friend Darcy enthusiastically shows him how to work Instagram and he amasses a tremendous amount of followers in a very short period of time. It’s overwhelming, to tell the truth, but it drives Tony nuts that Steve has more followers than him and that mostly makes it worth it. Instagram is easy. He doesn’t have to come up with words unless he wants too. Steve’s always been more of a visual person. His instagram fills up with pictures of his teammates and the sun rising in central park and street art and the Brooklyn Bridge. 

And he tries to keep himself from wondering about his soulmate. 

Plenty of people ask — his friends and his teammates and the press. Everybody seems to think they have some right to know the words inscribed on his flesh, but Steve just smiles and shakes his head, says that he prefers to keep such things private. His friends tease him for being old fashioned and the press (as always) is of two minds. Some people think he’s hiding something, other thinks that it’s noble, that he would keep such a thing private. 

Of course, if Steve had nice, normal words he’d be happy to share with the world. He’s just... a little wary of the kind of person he’s going to be matched with, given their first words to him. The intensity of fans scare him. They’re obsessive and at times stalkerish and downright creepy. Steve finally allowed Tony to hire someone to screen his fan mail after he received a pair of panties that he was pretty sure were worn before. People follow him on his runs (or they try, at least). He can’t even go out for coffee without being recognized by someone. It seems like every other day his name is on the top of some gossip rag. Mostly he deals with it by paying as little attention as he can. That’s probably why he doesn’t realize what’s going on, doesn’t see this coming. 

He’s in his favorite used bookstore, tucked down an alley in the lower east side. It’s been there since before he was born and remains unchanged from how Steve remembers it the few times he had visited it. It’s dusty and disorganized, long stacks of books creating a maze that he can lose himself in for hours. He’s just cracked the spine of a new art book that looks fascinating enough that he might bring it home, when someone says, “Dude, your dick is trending on twitter!” 

Steve’s head whips up. And then he freezes because he’s suddenly, forcibly aware that whatever he says next is inscribed on the man in front of him, has been since his first breath. A perverse part of Steve wants to give the man words just as strange and embarrassing as his own. Another part of Steve hopes that this (very handsome) man has grown up with nice, normal words that nobody ever teased him about. He could say something simple like  _ excuse me _ or even  _ what? _

The man’s eyes go wide and his cheeks go bright red, one hand slapping over his mouth in clear mortification. “Oh my god, oh my god, I can’t believe I just said that to Captain America. I’m such an idiot.” 

“I don’t think you look like an idiot,” Steve says, not thinking. If possible, the man’s eyes go even wider. His hand drops away from his mouth. 

“Say that again?”

Steve licks his lips and repeats his words, “I don’t think you look like an idiot.” 

“Holy flying fuck!” The man swears and Steve resists the urge to laugh. He feels hysterical and strange, like the moment’s not quite real, like maybe he’s dreaming. “But you’re — you’re.”

“Steve,” he says firmly. “I’m Steve Rogers.” 

This is what he was worried about — that whoever said his words would just be a fan, would never really see him or know him or care about the part of him that’s Steve and private. 

The man nods slowly. “Alright Steve. I’m Bucky. Uhm, it’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Steve agrees, voice a little stilted. “Should we, uh, get coffee or something?”

A lot of the more standard protocols for meeting your soulmate from Steve’s youth are no longer in practice and modern norms are still a bit of a mystery to him. Bucky just smiles, though, doesn’t look like Steve’s done something wrong or presented an idea that’s inappropriate. 

“Sure. Were you going to buy that?” Bucky gestures to the book in his hand and Steve is abruptly aware that it is a book of nude photos. They’re not sexual in any way - they’re intimate without being sexual, which is what had initially drawn his eye. Now, however, he blushes and closes the book with a snap, setting it down on the top of a precarious heap of books. He can always come back for it. 

“Uh, no, I’m good. We can go.” 

Bucky grins a little, looks a little shy to Steve’s eye, which makes him feel a little better about his own awkwardness. 

“There’s this little place down the road — their scones are to die for,” Bucky says, glancing back at him. 

“That sounds good,” Steve agrees, holding the door for Bucky. As Bucky saunters out, Steve’s eyes are drawn to his backside, clad in tight denim. He’s definitely not disappointed by his soulmate’s looks, that’s for sure. Bucky is fit without being overly built. His long hair is swept up into a bun and there’s a couple days’ worth of stubble on his cheeks. His t-shirt reveals summer tanned arms, one wrist stacked with string bracelets. Steve follows Bucky through the road. It’s hot out out in the way only New York can be hot, sun baking into bricks and pavement and radiating out in addition to the sticky, humid heat of the air. 

“The Bread Box also makes the best lemonade in the whole damn city,” Bucky promises, picking his t-shirt away from his neck and waving it back and forth to create a breeze. “Which is good, since it’s hotter than the devil’s armpit out here.” 

Steve is surprised into a laugh and Bucky grins at him. 

But suddenly Bucky freezes, staring up at Steve with wide, horrified eyes. 

“Oh. my. God.” Bucky whispers. 

Steve’s eyebrows crease and he glances around for any clue as to what is distressing Bucky. It seemed like things had been going well. 

“Oh my god, your  _ words _ , shit, did I really — ” Steve laughs, partly from sheer relief. For such a long time these words have worried him, made him wonder how the person who would say them to a complete stranger could be a person he actually wanted. Bucky’s panic upon realizing that his first words to Steve are indelibly pressed into Steve’s skin goes a long way to reassuring Steve about the kind of person Bucky is. “Please, please tell me that your words aren’t  _ your dick is trending on twitter _ .”

Steve just shrugs apologetically and, with a quick glance around to check for photographers, pulls the collar of his t-shirt down under his left collarbone, letting Bucky see for himself the words that have plagued Steve his entire life. 

“Oh god, I am so sorry. I swear I’m not usually so rude,” Bucky is completely flustered now, covering his hands with his face, “It’s just, my friend had just sent the twitter post to me like two minutes before and it was just — I’m so sorry.”

Steve finds himself laughing, though the words have never been a laughing matter to him before. But he’s giddy with the realization that Bucky’s not some rabid Captain America fanboy who’s never going to really see Steve. He then finds himself wondering, “What twitter post?”

If possible, Bucky goes even more red. “Uhm — you haven’t seen it?”

Steve shook his head. He didn’t really follow twitter. Tony usually told him what he needed to know from that corner. Steve was a little surprised that there was a post about Steve’s dick going around and Tony hadn’t already called him to tease him. 

“Well, uh —” Bucky pulls out his phone and taps through to a link in his email, pulling the page up and turning it so Steve can see. Steve blushes bright red from the tips of his ears down to his belly button. The picture of him is from the Chitauri invasion, in that terrible skin tight suit that Steve had gotten rid of as soon as he possibly could. Steve doesn’t like photos of that suit in general, but this one is by far the worst that he has seen. It’s zoomed in on his crotch and the caption read  _ Did the serum enhance all of Cap’s assets? Find out what the scientists have to say here.  _

“Oh,” Steve says. The way the light hit and the pants fell made it look like you could make out the actual lines of his dick in his pants, which Steve knew to be impossible. “That picture isn't what it looks like,” Steve mumbles, passing Bucky his phone back. “I mean — I wear a cup.” 

Steve doesn’t know why he says that. 

Bucky is blushing and staring at the ground. 

They’re off to a great start. 

“Right, yeah, of course.” 

And then they’re both standing there, not looking at each other, and Steve can’t help but think that, yeah, this is about what he expected the first time he really understood his words. 

“Your words must have been really confusing,” Bucky says suddenly. When Steve looks at him, he adds, “When you were growing up, I mean. Cause twitter and trending and all that, you wouldn’t have — ”

“No,” Steve agrees. “I didn’t know what most of it meant and the bit that I did wasn’t precisely something I was encouraged to share.” Bucky blushes again. 

“I’m really sorry about that.” Bucky pauses and fidgets. “Please don’t ever tell my ma.”

Steve can’t help it - he laughs. “My ma had a lot to say about my words,” he admits. Bucky groans and covers his face. 

“Oh God.” The silence after that is a little more companionable, a little easier to bear. It doesn’t take long to get to the little cafe Bucky liked. The air conditioning is on when they slip through the front door and Steve sighs a little bit in relief. He decidedly doesn’t miss the top-tenement heat of Brooklyn in August. The cold might have been worse for his lungs, but the heat clung and made his joints ache, made it feel like he was always walking through soup. 

They both order large cups of lemonade, and Steve gets an assortment of baked goods because ever since he got the serum, he’s pretty much always hungry. He explains as much to Bucky when he sees his arched eyebrow and skeptical smile. 

“That must be annoying,” Bucky says, leading them to a quiet corner of the sun-soaked shop. At Steve’s questions glance, Bucky adds, “I mean I remember puberty. I was basically a human garbage disposal. I was really glad when I went back to eating normal amounts. So was ma.”

From there, it’s natural enough to ask about Bucky’s family, which starts a long rambling narrative about all the members of his family. 

It should be weird, and awkward, but it’s not. It’s nothing at all what Steve feared all those years, staring at his words in the mirror and puzzling over their meaning and then panicking about what they meant when he finally understood. 

So when Tony calls to tell him, “Yo, Capsicle, your ancient dick’s all over twitter. You know most of get that out of our systems when we’re in our twenties,” Steve doesn’t get tense, like he so often does when he’s interacting with Tony. 

“I am in my twenties, Tony.”

“Oh right. Well, still, seemed like something your depression-era sensibilities would have some concern about.”

“Tony, I’ve known about this since I was born.”

“What?”

“Now, I’ve gotta go. I met my soulmate. He doesn’t look like an idiot at all.”

“Wait,  _ what _ — “ Steve hangs up and looks up into Bucky’s bright smile, his laugh spilling into the room. 

“So —” Bucky drawls, putting on an over-the-top lascivious grin. “Since your dick isn’t actually trending on twitter, any chance I can get a private viewing?”

And then it’s Steve’s turn to laugh. 

_ fin.  _


End file.
